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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25512853">Tribute</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent'>tastewithouttalent</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Princes and Kings [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fate/Zero</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bath Sex, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Loyalty, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, No Plot/Plotless, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:27:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25512853</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Waver's head is ducked down, his mouth fixed firmly on one of his more dire scowls, which just means that Iskandar is grinning more broadly when Waver’s gaze lifts to find him." Iskandar takes in upon himself to ease some of Waver's tension at the conclusion of a long day.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iskandar | Rider/Waver Velvet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Princes and Kings [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1849714</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>102</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tribute</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Iskandar hears the sound of the chamber door opening even over the noise of the splashing water. He’s shoulder-deep in the wide pool of the bath, arms spread wide to take full advantage of the perfumed water around him, but the soft wet of the waves lapping at the tiles laid around the tub isn’t enough to overcome even the sound of a murmured conversation from the other room, and the force of the door opening is far greater than that. Iskandar thinks he can pick out the turn of the latch and the dull drag of the weight pulling on well-greased hinges; but he can be certain he hears the slam of the door hitting the opposing wall with the force granted it, and the curse that follows is more biting than muffled. Iskandar braces his feet at the bottom of the pool so he may stand and look towards the adjourning room, and when the voice calls </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Iskandar!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> with the pitch of frustration keen upon it Iskandar grins satisfaction with his own prediction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” he returns, and comes forward in the bath so he may rest his arms upon the tiled edge and lean in against their support in expectation of his visitor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver strides around the corner at full speed. If the force with which he opened the door were insufficient to speak to his mood the pace of his footfalls would manage it; they land with thudding force, as if he is attempting to strike sparks with each blow of his heels. He has a hand up to push at a lock of the long hair that has fallen loose of the tie that holds it back from his face; a rather futile effort, Iskandar thinks, given how disheveled he appears in general. His head is ducked down, his mouth fixed firmly on one of his more dire scowls, which just means that Iskandar is grinning more broadly when Waver’s gaze lifts to find him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops dead, halting so immediately his averted forward momentum nearly carries him into a stumbling fall as his mouth softens and his eyes go wide. “Iskandar,” he blurts, sounding as if he has dropped the years that have passed since they first met in his home kingdom, and he turns aside before Iskandar can see more than the very beginnings of the flush across his cheeks. “I didn’t realize.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iskandar raises an eyebrow. “That I was in the bath?” he asks. “There’s little else for me to be doing here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Waver says. “I didn’t...I wasn’t intending to intrude on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were not intruding,” Iskandar tells him. “I would not have invited you in were that so.” He cocks his head to the side to glimpse Waver’s face behind the dark weight of his hair as his smile pulls wider at his mouth. “Your modesty is unnecessary, if very charming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That gets Waver to scoff in the back of his throat and turn sharply on the heel of his boot so he can frown offended pride at Iskandar. “I’m not being </span>
  <em>
    <span>modest</span></em><span>,” he protests.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should hope not,” Iskandar says. “I do not know what else there is I might do to remind you of your place if you yet doubt it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver flushes again, vivid color suffusing his cheeks and tensing at the press of his lips. “I’m well aware,” he manages, but his gaze is sliding down, falling from Iskandar’s eyes to his shoulders and bare arms. Waver’s lashes dip, his expression softening into familiar warmth, and Iskandar grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I see,” he says. Waver looks back to the other’s smile and then away in a rush, and Iskandar breaks into a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need not look so shocked,” he tells him. “You have seen far more of me than this even this morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Waver says, but he doesn’t look back, and there is no sign of easing in his flush.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do not know,” Iskandar says. “Your memory is ever-brief, princeling. It is lucky for us both that reminding you is such a pleasure.” He lifts his arm from the tiles to extend a hand to where Waver is standing half-turned away and coloring dark with embarrassment. “Come. I will spur your recollection.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver scoffs at the back of his throat but his gaze slips sideways to touch at Iskandar’s face before lingering at his outstretched arm. “That’s the offer, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is,” Iskandar says, comfortable in his certain victory. “Come and claim what is yours, princeling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver’s cheeks color again with a fresh surge of self-consciousness, but when he ducks away once more the motion comes with a hand reaching for the tie at his hair to let down what of the heavy locks have lingered in their restraint instead of breaking free. They spill out across his shoulders, sweeping to curtain his face as he ducks his head to tug the laces of his shirt loose, and Iskandar rests his elbows back at the tile and lingers in the watching that is always a pleasure when it comes with the anticipation of what is to follow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver’s training with the army has paid off. When Iskandar met him years hence he was master of his full height and nothing else, all long legs and lanky arms with none of the strength to fill them out. He is still slender even now, after gaining bow-calluses across the soft of his hands and the confidence that keeps his shoulders up and his gaze forward in a line of men with twice his age and experience; but his body holds lean muscle now, strength layered across his back and thighs and chest. Iskandar can see the proof of it shift across Waver’s shoulders as he pulls his shirt up and free of the fall of his hair, can see the echo of months of effort in the flex of his shoulders and the corded strength of his arms, and he smiles from his position at the edge of the bath as Waver casts his dusty shirt aside and ducks his head to turn his attention to his pants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need to stare,” he says without turning around to see Iskandar watching him. “There’s nothing new to see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iskandar rumbles a laugh in the back of his throat. “The fact that it is a familiar sight is all the more to be savored,” he says. “You lose nothing by repetition, Waver Velvet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent,” Waver says, his tone dry with habitual sarcasm. “Well, at least I don’t need to worry about you growing bored of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never,” Iskandar says with far greater sincerity than Waver put on his words. Waver’s head turns as he looks back to Iskandar. His hair is heavy around his shoulders, the dark length speaking to the time that has passed as clearly as the well-trained strength of his body; but for a moment there is an uncertainty in the bright of his eyes, a hesitance that Iskandar remembers in the face of the boy Waver was on their first meeting. He lifts his hand once more, this time to gesture Waver forward from his position at the edge of the room. “I will show you. Come, Waver.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver’s mouth shifts, his lips pressing tight as his eyes go bright with the almost-hurt that his affection always looks before he turns away. Iskandar keeps his arm up and his hand waiting as Waver sheds the last of his clothing in a self-conscious rush before pushing his hair back over his shoulder and turning to come back across the floor to the edge of the bath. He’s colored red all across his face, his movements hurried with an uncomfortable awareness of his own nudity that he has never yet shaken, but when he kneels to touch a hand to the tile so he can slip into the water alongside the other Iskandar meets him with a hand at his hip, his fingers spreading wide to steady Waver in place just where he is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold,” he says, smiling to take any edge of command from the words. Waver goes still, one hand outstretched to brace at the floor and the other arm angled forward to cover himself. Iskandar draws closer to the edge of the bath, bracing himself in the water so he can reach out with both hands to bracket Waver’s hips between his palms. “I wish to see you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver huffs an exhale. “There’s nothing so wonderful to see,” he says, but when Iskandar pulls he comes forward obediently to let himself be drawn across the tile and up to the edge of the bath. “It’s only me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Iskandar says. “It is because it is you that I wish to see.” He presses his hand down Waver’s hip, letting his fingers spread wide as they fit to the outside of the other’s thigh, and Waver shifts in answer to tip himself sideways so he can unfold a leg and let it drape over the edge of the bath. The other follows, urged into surrender by the suggestion of Iskandar’s hand turning at Waver’s hip, and Iskandar hums satisfaction as he slides his palms up to press at the top of the other’s thighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would you could see yourself as I do,” he says. His fingers draw up Waver’s hips and along his waist; Waver shudders at the ticklish draw of Iskandar’s thumb along the bottom curve of his ribcage. Iskandar smiles and reaches out and around Waver’s body, framing the other in the curve of his arm as he flattens his other hand against the rising dip of the other’s back. “You would not be so surprised by my appreciation, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am not surprised by it now,” Waver manages. The trailing ends of his hair are brushing Iskandar’s wrist as the other’s hand maps the curve of Waver’s back. Iskandar can feel the shift of Waver’s body as the other leans back to press into the support of the palm against him. “You always like to indulge in the spoils of your victories.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iskandar’s laugh rumbles in his chest. “Is that what you are?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You claimed my kingdom,” Waver points out. “There is no one who calls me prince now but you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Iskandar says. “And I am enough, princeling.” It is not a question and he does not require agreement, but if he did he would find it in the tremor that runs through Waver’s body braced against his hold. Iskandar smiles without looking up and spreads his fingers wider at Waver’s back before he leans in to press a kiss against the other’s bare chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver arches to the contact, his back curving and head tilting back until his hair brushes the floor behind him in the curtain it falls to. Iskandar can taste the strain of the other’s exhale humming against his lips as Waver groans. “Iskandar,” he manages. “I’m covered in dust, I should bathe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And so you shall,” Iskandar tells him, and kisses a little farther down Waver’s chest, following the dip at the center of his ribcage as he goes. “Once I am done appreciating you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver sighs gustily. “We’ll be here all </span>
  <em>
    <span>day</span></em><span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And where is the trouble in that?” Iskandar asks. “Your training is complete, your day is done. All is at peace, there is no war to be fought and no battles to be won.” He presses another kiss to Waver’s body, lower down where the curve of bone gives way to the tension of his abdomen; over his head Waver lets free a breathy exhale. His hand lifts from the floor, giving up bracing his own weight in favor of clutching to a handful of Iskandar’s hair, and Iskandar smiles against the flushed heat of Waver’s skin. “Except that with your sense of propriety.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver makes a weak noise in the back of his throat. “You overthrew that long ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm,” Iskandar hums. “And yet the pleasure of overcoming it remains.” He lifts his hand from Waver’s thigh, where the tension of muscle is trembling with the rising tide of heat, that he may catch his fingers around the wrist Waver still has bracing in front of his hips. Waver doesn’t resist when Iskandar tugs against his arm, just lets himself be urged back, and Iskandar rumbles a low resonance of satisfaction in his throat as Waver’s arousal comes into view. “Surely you cannot disagree with that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I,” Waver says. Iskandar lets his wrist go free that he may slide his palm up the length of Waver’s thigh to brace his grip at the crease of the other’s hip, and Waver reaches out, his fingers slipping across Iskandar’s shoulder and back until he is grasping at the back of the other’s neck. “Iskandar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Princeling,” Iskandar says, murmuring the title to an endearment over Waver’s bare skin, and he bows his head that he may part his lips and close his mouth around the heat of Waver’s cock. Waver shudders over an exhale that peaks his voice to the high plea of years-past youth, and Iskandar pulls against his back to fix Waver steady against the involuntary curve of his body shaping to the first thrum of contact. His hand shifts at Waver’s hip, his fingers following the line of the other’s body to grip against his waist, and when he turns his head it is only that he may gain more depth and take the strain of Waver’s cock deeper into the heat of his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver is as responsive as ever. His body quakes reply to every movement of Iskandar’s head, his knees trembling around Iskandar’s shoulders and his fingers curling to fist desperate against Iskandar’s hair, but if his body demands his voice pleads, his breathing drawing tense as a bowstring in the length of his throat until every exhale is formed to a whimper, every inhale tight as a moan. His cock is hot, straining hard against Iskandar’s lips and over the drag of his tongue, and Iskandar lets his eyes shut that he may better indulge in the satisfaction of having Waver so entirely. There is the taste of salt on his tongue, the damp heat of sweat clinging to Waver’s bare skin, and the feel of Waver’s rising pleasure in every part of him, from the thigh trembling beneath Iskandar’s forearm to the wrist angling steep over the top of his head to the flutter of strain pulling Waver’s breathing taut in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver arches to Iskandar’s hold, his back curving and head tilting and knees tightening, and Iskandar draws him in in full, pressing his lips close to Waver’s length and taking the full heat of him into his mouth that he may better coax the press of his tongue to the other. Waver jerks against him, his knees tightening hard around the span of Iskandar’s shoulders between them, and Iskandar lowers his elbow to pin Waver’s leg down and sucks hard along the other’s length. Waver seizes at Iskandar’s hair, both his hands clutching helpless pressure at the other, and when he groans there is the sound of surrender in it. His cock jumps, pleasure spending hot against the back of Iskandar’s tongue, and Iskandar presses his lips close that he may draw Waver’s orgasm from him and into long, pulsing tremors of heat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver is shaking by the time Iskandar loosens his hold enough to draw his head back from his press over the other’s hips. Waver’s shoulders are curved in close, his hair falling forward around his face and over Iskandar’s head before him; his hands are still wound into Iskandar’s hair, his fingers seeking support against the other. It makes Iskandar smile, his head still bowed under the keeping of Waver’s tilted-in shoulders, before he draws back enough that he can look up and see pleasure weighting Waver’s lashes and distraction-soft at his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come, princeling,” Iskandar says, and draws his hands back to reclaim his grip at Waver’s hips. “Join me.” And he lifts Waver clear of the tile to pull him forward and down into the bath with him. Waver leans sharply forward, his breath catching in the first imbalance of Iskandar lifting him, but Iskandar’s hold is certain as he pulls them both back from the edge of the pool so he can lower Waver into the spreading ripples with him. Waver slides down his chest, his movement eased by the slip of the perfumed oil in the water lapping at Iskandar’s form. His thigh presses upon Iskandar’s length as he goes, the friction of his body drawing the pleasant ache of anticipation into Iskandar’s belly as his cock follows Waver’s thigh up to the crease of his thigh and dragging against the flat of the other’s abdomen before Waver’s feet find the bottom of the pool to steady him chest-deep in the water, his hair spreading out to a dark fan across the surface.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver is still flushed with the fading heat of his release, his cheeks pink and mouth temptingly soft, but he musters a frown of concern all the same as he looks down at the splash of the water around them. “What about you?” He lowers his hand from where his arms are wound around Iskandar’s neck down into the water to brush his fingers against the side of Iskandar’s waist. “I can do whatever you’d like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iskandar lifts his own hand to smooth Waver’s hair back from his face and cradle the side of the other’s head against his palm. “I know.” Waver lifts his head to look up and Iskandar smiles at him. “There is a strategy to my approach, princeling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver gusts a sigh. “Of course there is,” he says. “And will you be deigning to inform me of your plans?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As they are relevant,” Iskandar says, and curls his fingers closer at the back of Waver’s head to turn his face up. Waver submits at once in spite of his show of frustration, his head dropping back to the cradle of Iskandar’s hold and his gaze dipping to the other’s mouth as his lips part over anticipation. Iskandar smiles at the ease of it, at the natural grace with which Waver fits to him, before he lowers his head to clasp Waver’s lips with the press of his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver is ready for him. His mouth is soft already, the usual tension of stress he carries with him stripped away by his recent satisfaction, and as Iskandar’s lips find his Waver’s mouth opens in ready expectation of more. Iskandar is happy to take what is offered, sliding his tongue past Waver’s parted lips and into the shadowy heat of his mouth, and Waver makes a soft noise of gratification and pulls against the hand he still has in Iskandar’s hair to urge the other closer. Iskandar is happy to accept this willing invitation in motion and intent together as he takes a step forward to couple with the deeper drag of his tongue within Waver’s mouth. He loops his arm around Waver’s waist to support the water-eased weight of the other’s movement; another step bears them back against the edge of the bath again so Iskandar can catch the lean line of Waver’s body between the tiled lip and the greater flex of his own. Waver arches into the support, curving himself into artistry as he winds his arms around Iskandar’s neck and turns his face up in welcome of the other’s mouth, and Iskandar braces their bodies flush together and takes the full heat offered by Waver’s parted lips and wanting tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iskandar doesn’t put words to the goal of his desire. It doesn’t need speaking when Waver is so pliant with his own satisfaction and so willing to give himself over to Iskandar’s keeping; and besides, Iskandar’s body is presenting clear statement of his intent to his partner, pressed as near as they are. Iskandar urges closer, humming pleasure into Waver’s open mouth as his hands draw through water-heavy hair and follow the splash of rippling water across curving waist and down to lean-muscled legs, and Waver arches against him, his self-conscious hesitation melted out of him by the joined effects of his release and the persuasion of Iskandar’s lips. Iskandar kisses into his mouth, lingering over the satisfaction that comes of tasting Waver’s tongue with his and feeling the give of the other’s lips parting to ready heat for his own, and it is only when Waver is clutching at Iskandar’s hair and arching up to meet the solid heat of the other’s arousal that Iskandar slides one hand around to brace at the dip of Waver’s back and lets the other slide down farther, following the curve of Waver’s body down and across to seek out the tight grip of his entrance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver breaks from the kiss as Iskandar’s fingers slide against him. His breathing is coming hard, catching at his throat until Iskandar can hear the whimper of tension on every exhale, and his cheeks are flushing dark once more with some mingled force of embarrassment and the renewing tide of desire. But he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t loosen his hold on Iskandar’s hair or twist to break from the hand pinning him flush to the span of the other’s body, and Iskandar keeps his head ducked forward and his gaze on Waver’s face as he works persuasion against natural resistance with the oil-slick of the water splashing around them. Waver keeps his eyes down, his lashes shadowing the focus of his gaze to dark as his cheeks color and his mouth trembles, but the heat of his breathing is still starkly audible, and more even than that Iskandar can feel his body softening as instinct gives way to the slow, pressing circles he is drawing with his fingers. Waver is breathing harder, his chest working against Iskandar’s as his fingers tighten in the other’s hair and his thighs quiver with rising strain; and Iskandar urges against him, and Waver eases, his body opening to surrender its heat to the slick strain of Iskandar’s touch sliding up and into him. His breathing comes hard, falling to a moan as Iskandar enters him, and Iskandar hums satisfaction in the back of his throat and bows his head to follow the forward tilt of Waver’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Princeling,” he says, a title and a command at once, and Waver lifts his chin to answer with the softening part of his lips and the heated flush of his cheeks. Iskandar turns his head, lowering his mouth to press flush to Waver’s own before he takes another stroke to urge deeper within the other’s body. Waver tenses against him, his body flexing on an instinctive shudder of strain, but his strength spends itself to the wall of Iskandar’s chest at his own, and when Iskandar pushes up Waver opens into ready welcome for the reach of his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iskandar keeps them there for some time. His desire is pressing solid to Waver’s body, swollen with a heat he can feel as a dull heartbeat-ache in the weight of his balls; but Waver is rising too, his cock returning itself to insistent heat as the rest of his body melts into pliant surrender. Iskandar’s fingers work within him, unraveling tension into ready want, and Waver groans into his mouth, his legs trembling with each thrust of Iskandar’s touch and his cock swelling against the crease of Iskandar’s thigh. By the time Iskandar is moving in him with easy friction Waver is as hot as he is, his body riding the upward force of Iskandar’s touch to urge himself to the other’s body with the unthinking grace of instinctive desire. His arms are close around Iskandar’s neck, his back arching him to the other’s chest, and when Iskandar eases the push of his fingers he can feel Waver tighten on him in protest even before the groan of frustrated expectation that spills from Waver’s throat to Iskandar’s mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver pulls back, breaking from the keeping of Iskandar’s lips as he draws a breath in expectation of protest; and Iskandar answers before there is a need for speech, sliding his fingers out of Waver as part of the same action that closes his hands upon the other’s hips to lift him bodily from the floor of the bath. Waver hisses a startled inhale and clutches close to Iskandar’s neck, but he’s moving too, his knees shifting apart as he lifts his legs to catch his balance against Iskandar before him. It might be simple reflex, the unthinking action of a body seeking support with the sudden loss of it, but the fit of Waver’s legs around him brings their bodies to a new alignment as well, and Iskandar is ready to slide one hand around Waver’s hip to press low at the base of his spine and tilt him forward. Waver curves his back, curling in to angle his hips as he ducks his head to pant the heat of anticipation into the space between their bodies, and Iskandar fixes the other steady beneath his hands before pressing him back to the support of the tiled lip at his back. Waver drops a hand, reaching to grip hard at the edge of the pool to hold himself still, and Iskandar takes the invitation of his flushed face, and bowed head, and spread thighs, and brings himself forward to thrust past the tight grip of Waver’s entrance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver groans at the first blow. His back arches, his head tips back to bare the pale of his throat; his fingers tighten at the edge of the pool, flexing to white-knuckled force as his arm tenses. His body is a long line of strain from the press of his thighs to the set of his jaw, but the pull of his arm is urging him down, the weight of his heels is drawing Iskandar closer, and Iskandar answers with another thrust, rocking himself back so he can work deeper still. Waver whimpers, his body tenses with want, and Iskandar takes another thrust to bring them fully together. Waver’s fingers drag at Iskandar’s hair, his head comes forward to rest at the other’s shoulder, and Iskandar holds them still, savoring the pleasure of joining as Waver quivers through the first pressure of being filled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iskandar waits until Waver has caught his breath back, until the tension of unvoiced moans has eased into the control of deliberate inhales, and then he turns his head to kiss against the side of Waver’s throat, to follow the pale line of it up to the edge of his jawline. Waver breathes out hard, groaning faintly under the friction of Iskandar’s mouth, and as Iskandar’s lips press to the high, wanting color at his cheeks Waver turns his head to offer his mouth once more. Iskandar meets Waver’s lips with his own, covering their soft part with the certain hold of his mouth before he draws himself back that he may work into another thrust. Waver tightens against him, his mouth opening into a wordless moan, and Iskandar urges him back, taking the offer of his lips as readily as he works within the heat of Waver’s body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is a pleasure to have him. Iskandar always appreciates Waver, whether he’s wielding a bow on the training grounds or frowning attention at the page of a book or heavy-limbed with sleep in the tangle of bedsheets; but there is something of the thrill of conquest to taking the habitual strain in his body and crease between his brows and smoothing them to the pliant grace of arousal with the efforts of his own body. Waver’s fingers drag across Iskandar’s shoulder, seeking stability for the arching flex of his back; and then Iskandar drives up into him, and stability is forgotten in exchange for the backwards tilt of Waver’s head and the thrum of a moan pouring up the pale curve of his throat. Iskandar leans in closer, urging Waver back over the lip of the bath, and Waver lets his hand fall from the other’s shoulders to brace himself with the full strength of both his arms behind him. His hair spills around his shoulders, heavy with the weight of the water and dark against the pale of his skin, and Iskandar hums appreciation in his throat and draws back so the light can find the shape of Waver’s body uninterrupted by his shadow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There,” Iskandar says, and reaches for Waver’s leg bracing at his hip so he may fit his hand beneath the angle of the other’s knee and take possession of the tilt of Waver’s body. Waver submits, taking his balance back on his hands at the edge of the bath and letting Iskandar lift his knees clear of the water so he can brace him steady, and Iskandar lets his gaze trail down the length of the other’s body, from the weight of dark hair spilling over his shoulders and along the tension of lean muscle across the planes of his chest down to the swell of his cock rising beneath the lapping ripples of the bath. “You are a pleasure to behold, princeling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver’s mouth tightens as embarrassment stains his cheeks red. “I don’t know where you come up with this,” he says. “You hardly need to flatter me. There are hundreds of people who would be happy to take my place in your bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yet you are the one who remains,” Iskandar tells him. “That stands to your credit as much as anything I might say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver’s lips press tight together. “So it’s my looks that I have to thank for this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iskandar laughs. “Yes,” he says. He draws his hips back to take a slow thrust forward, drawing the motion out so Waver’s lashes flutter and the tension at his mouth breaks to a huffed exhale. “Your looks.” Waver’s chin comes down with the next thrust; a lock of his hair slides forward over his shoulder as he gusts a sound that barely avoids the shape of a moan. “Your mind.” Iskandar lifts one of Waver’s legs up and over his shoulder so he can brace the other’s weight with a palm at the top of his thigh; Waver’s hips lift, the strain of his cock breaks the surface of the water splashing between them. “Your temper.” Iskandar lets instinct stroke him forward to fill Waver with the full heat of his cock, and Waver’s head drops back into the surrender of a groan that Iskandar feels tighten pleasure into his balls. He takes another thrust, long and savoring as Waver shudders around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your devotion,” Iskandar says. “It is the king’s duty to repay loyalty in kind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver struggles himself into a laugh. “This is a duty, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm.” Iskandar slides through another thrust to seat himself fully between the quiver in Waver’s thighs. “And a pleasure.” His movement is coming smoothly, his body rocking against and into Waver’s with an easy rhythm, and Waver is following his lead, the arch of his back and the heat of his cock forming counterpoint to Iskandar’s heartbeat rising to the thunder of peaking arousal. “You have been from the start, my princeling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver groans. His jaw is set on tension, his shoulders straining with the force of his grip at the edge of the bath, but his cheeks are flushed dark with heat and the shadows behind the weight of his lashes are too deep for Iskandar to mistake as anything other than the swelling tide of pleasure coming to lay claim to the wall of strain in his body. Iskandar moves forward, his cock stroking through a deep pulse of heat, and Waver’s head goes back to bare the line of his straining throat as he moans wordless answer. Iskandar breathes out a sigh of savoring satisfaction and draws his hand down Waver’s thigh so he can tighten a grip at the other’s hip to fix him steady.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A pleasure,” he repeats, certain in a lack of protest this time. “And a beauty, most of all within my bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver hisses an inhale and struggles for speech. “Or your—</span><em><span>ah</span></em><span>—bath?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iskandar rumbles a laugh. “Indeed,” he says. “Anywhere I can have you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can,” Waver says. His lashes are heavy, fluttering nearly to closed over his gaze; the strain at his jaw is softening, his lips parting with a premonition of heat. Iskandar watches his throat work on a swallow, watches his head tilt back to the very cusp of surrender. “Anywhere, my king.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iskandar purrs satisfaction. “Then I shall,” he says, and brings his hips thrusting forward to drive between Waver’s thighs. Waver tightens, his leg shuddering at Iskandar’s shoulder and his body arching, and Iskandar moves again, urging Waver’s tension higher with the unhesitating heat of his desire. Waver’s head tips back, his hair falling into a dark sheet as Iskandar braces him still against the insistent rhythm of his action; and Iskandar’s reward breaks over him, Waver’s body flexing taut upon his length as the other’s voice breaks to wordless heights of pleasure and his cock jumps to spill his renewed release over the ripples cresting around them. Waver shudders with sensation, his legs quaking as his body trembles with the impact of his pleasure, and Iskandar hums appreciation from the deepest part of his chest as he continues, letting his own pleasure ride Waver’s as easily as it encourages it. Waver’s throat works, flexing on heat without the breath to give it sound, and Iskandar lets his own breath spend in a groan as his hips jerk forward to sink between Waver’s thighs. His body flexes, pulling itself into a taut line of expectation before pleasure breaks over him, rippling across his shoulders and through his legs as he spends himself within the grip of Waver’s body. His hips rock forward, urging him as close to Waver as he can get, and Waver lets the support of his arms sag him onto his elbows as he drops his head back and pants for some measure of breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has found only a token amount of it when the first tide of sensation has passed over Iskandar to leave him basking in the radiant glow of pleasure. Waver’s leg over his shoulder is still quivering, trembling with helpless heat even when Iskandar reaches to press his palm to the other’s thigh, and if his cock has softened somewhat to lie heavy across his belly his face is still flushed, his lips still red with the arousal with which Iskandar so gripped him. Iskandar watches Waver as he braces the other’s leg that he may draw back and out of him; with the defense of his usual frown stripped away, the shudders of sensation that follow the action are left to spill across Waver’s expression without restraint. Waver groans as Iskandar comes free of him, his fingers tightening at the edge of the bath in answer to the loss, and Iskandar only hesitates long enough to lower Waver back into the splash of the water before he returns himself to the open angle of the other’s thighs, pressing close enough that the lingering heat of his arousal is pinned against Waver’s stomach as Iskandar draws the other’s shoulders into the curve of his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There,” he says, and bows his head to kiss against the arch of Waver’s cheekbone. “Now you can start relaxing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver reaches up out of the water, his fingers seeking until they find a fist of Iskandar’s hair. “Was that only the start?” he says, and lifts his head to look up at Iskandar with the dark shadow of his lashes over his heavy-lidded gaze. “I doubt my stamina for the conclusion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iskandar grins down at him. “What else has your training been for?” He presses his hand to Waver’s hair, smoothing down along the heavy locks to cradle the back of the other’s head in his palm. Waver leans back into the contact to turn his face up to Iskandar over him, and Iskandar tips in to offer his smile to the corner of Waver’s mouth. “All I ask is your loyal devotion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waver wraps his arm around Iskandar’s shoulders, his back arching to press him close to the other’s chest. “You have it,” he says. “And me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iskandar hums in the back of his throat. “A treasure fit for a king.” And he turns his head, and claims the soft of Waver’s mouth with the gentle domination of his own.</span>
</p>
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